Surrender
by Dance Boheme
Summary: Grand Admiral Thrawn interrogates a Rebel XWing fighter pilot. What will come to the situation when she surrenders?


She licked the perspiration forming on her upper lip, savouring the salty taste as her heavy eyelids batted down. It had been hours since she had last drunk anything. The large overhead lamps hurt her eyes, as the rays penetrated through her retinas as what seemed to her like X-rays. The room was hot and stuffy, anything but accommodating, but there was nothing she could do about it, after all she was a prisoner. Her thoughts were interrupted as the sliding doors of her cell opened, a smooth "whoosh" being made as the air released the door from its catch.

"Prisoner 218 is here sir." the voice of a Stormtrooper cackled, with an electrical twinge that made him seem de-humanised. To her, they were dehumanised. They were Imperial.

Loud footsteps echoed down the cold steel interior of the Imperial corridor. The girl raised her head straining her eyes open to see who it was.

"I presume your name is different to that of Prisoner 218?" the deep voice enquired. She could only see the man's feet. High quality black leather hunting boots, light flickering off them into her eyes. The gleam from the boots made her wince.

"I see the room is too bright for you. Lighting to 30 percent!". The man's voice was like a bark, an irritant to her ears.

She felt the pressure lift off her eyes a little as the lights were dimmed. Slowly but surely she levered herself into a sitting position, rubbing her eyes. She opened them slowly, and saw that instead of a Lieutenant standing in front of her as she had suspected, it was none other than, "Grand Admiral Thrawn?"

She said the words quietly, dribbling from her mouth as she realised they could very well be the last choice words she would ever say.

"You have been most uncooperative Prisoner 218. I asked you before, what your name was, undoubtedly you seem to know my own..." His left eyebrow raised slightly in a mocking fashion. Embarrassed she shuffled, her own name surely must have be of no importance to a man of Thrawn's stature and position in the Empire. Still, he seemed to be eager in the very least to gain knowledge on his captive, and so she willingly pleased him, if only for a few more minutes of life.

"Morwen... Morwen Pasco." She hated her name. It sounded so vulgar and manly, yet her mother always insisted that the name was beautiful. The Grand Admiral didn't say a word, he merely observed her, his glowing red eyes penetrating her as he mulled her name over.

"An interesting name. I cannot say I have heard of it..."

She grimaced. He was attempting to draw her into conversation.

"It's not an all together common name. My mother seemed to like it..."

This man would get no such satisfaction as to knowing much about her at all. She would be the rebel enigma. She might be a captor, but it was her duty not to let anything slip. And she would start small, not letting Thrawn in on any of her private information. She was sure he was only putting on a façade to befriend her, extract information without violence. For now.

"I dare say your uncooperative is rude." he stated.

She glared at him defiantly, a heap of a challenge, though petite in stature.

"My uncooperative is deliberate. You shan't get the better of me!"

She beared her teeth as she yelled, causing him to rise his eyebrows.

"If I were to accommodate you somewhere private, would you then talk? I dare say I've been most kind to someone of your stature, I could easily have killed you by now."

She gulped as he talked so carelessly about his life.

"Turn the cameras off. If my face is seen by the Alliance, my family will be..."

"Terrorised?" Thrawn smirked slightly, his lips twitching. "Your precious Rebellion is after all a terrorist organisation, is it not?"

He walked over to the access panel and promptly punched in a code that she couldn't see, his broad shoulders and back hiding the panel from her. He turned around, sharply with hunger in his eyes.

"What are you going to do... do to me?" she stuttered, unable to control the weakness that emanated from her panicky flaw.

He ignored her question, instead turning his head to the wall on the left of him, chuckling. "Tell me, Morwen," the way way he said her name, with it's rolling R's made her heart flutter. Oh stars, there was something wrong with her. "What are your interests?"

The question caught her, she simply did not know how to reply. "Flying. It's the only thing I've ever been good at..." She hoped the answer would fulfil his curiousity about her person, being caught off guard like that in an interrogation chilled her very core.

His red eyes yet again pulsated towards her, as he put his hand into his pocket. She squirmed as a smile flashed onto his once expressionless face. His hand came out again. He was clutching onto a small black notebook. Her small black notebook to be more precise. She instantly rose.

"You have absolutely no need to taunt me with that!" She stormed over, attempting to grab it from his hand.

He lifted the notebook out of reach, and she gave up and resorted to slouching down on her small hard metal bunker.

He lowered the book, and started to idly thumb the pages, admiring the small drawing she had made inside.

"Tell me, Morwen, how long is it since you have been involved with art?"

She shrugged, not wanting to dignify his question with an answer- that was until one blue black eyebrow raised. "It was all I did in school. Lessons were boring, drawing wasn't. The only two things I ever enjoyed at school were art class and my lunch breaks..."

He continued to flit over the pages. His eyes taking in all details.

There is nothing in there at all that could possibly be of any use to him. A few species I've seen, a couple of buildings... The X-Wing. Oh no. If he sees the design he could... No you're being silly. Your drawing is nowhere near as accurate as could be useful to the Imperials...

"You are a good artist Miss. Pasco. But I do not think there will be much for you to draw in here, so I think I shall be keeping this for future... Reference." He said his last word hoarsely. It made the girl shudder, her mind somewhere between wanting to throttle the Grand Admiral for a rebellion victory and wanting to undress him for her own savouring tastes. There was something wrong in her head. She had barely known this man, and was already feeling undue lust for him. The way he talked, the way he held himself in such a cool and calm manner. The way he was so ambiguous as to what he felt, his eyes telling no stories.

He tossed the book to the side, it landed with a small thud. She wasn't interested, she had for the past few minutes been staring at him, in awe.

"Is everything alright Miss. Pasco?" Thrawn enquired, his lips tinged with satisfaction.

"Yes... I'm just... Not feeling normal. That's all..." She shook her head slightly, scared that the heat was affecting her brain, undue lust coming over her as she realised her death would be at the hands of this man, perhaps this very moment.

Slowly and silently, without a word he made his way over to the bunker, and placed himself next to Morwen. She reclined up against the wall, not knowing what to do, yet yearning to touch him. Mentally scolding herself, she turned her head violently, and stared at the floor with steely determination- she was not going to let her inner sexual beast win.

As she sat there, mentally scolding herself for her sexual thoughts, two muscle arms blocked her in, there was no escape. She turned her head quickly, and soon found herself embraced in a long and sensuous kiss. Letting the kiss go was like pain to her, she yearned for more, and she soon enough found herself staring into two red, glowing eyes. He gave an arrogant smirk, it only led to her becoming more enamoured with him.

I'm so naïve about love. There is nothing I can offer him... She thought to herself, sullenly.

He sat there, slowly undoing the zipper on her fly suit. She tugged at both of the arms, freeing herself. Upon realising that she now had less clothes on than him, she started to rectify the situation.

She nuzzled his neck affectionately, causing him to fidget slightly. As she did this, she undid the buttons on his smooth, crisp jacket, and placed it softly on the floor as if it were a valuable antique. Noting to herself that the process was painfully long, she quickly undid his shirt that was underneath and whisked it off. Much like the jacket, it was placed with great care onto the floor.

Morwen was then pushed backward, so that Thrawn was lying on top of her on the bunker. She placed her arms around him, and kissed him longingly. Thrawn frowned at her pathetic excuse for underwear, the material acting as a barricade for their ritual of bestial pleasure. Morwen wriggled out of the flimsy material, and chucked it nonchalantly on the floor, not caring where it went. She then went to work on Thrawn's trousers, making sure to undo them with care. She was only young, and with not a lot of experience did not wish this to be over quickly. She knew she did not love Thrawn, but the pressure of ever looming death, and her virginal self pushed her lust and animal instincts into overdrive. She yanked his trousers and underwear off in one go, leaving the two lustful lovers naked on the bunker. She knew the time was coming soon...

Morwen recoiled backwards, flirtatiously. Thrawn hungrily following after her. His pale blue muscular arms embraced and trapped her, but she knew that even if they weren't there, she would have stayed. Small affectionate nibbles on Morwen's neck told her it would all be coming soon. She tightened up at the prospect, and let a small moan escape.

Brilliant red eyes leered down at her, taking her entire form in. Well, she thought to herself, all in the name of research...

Grand Admiral Thrawn slid his hands down her body. The sensation of her body shuddering against his seemed to excite him all the more, the slowness of the kisses causing Morwen to moan quietly. Lips locked together, she felt her body arch underneath his, her frail and fragile begging for him to end this silent torture, and enter her immediately.

Another small moan escaped from her mouth, as his erection caught her in surprise.

Foreign language escapes his lips, and Morwen knew that while she cannot decipher it completely, it is something vulgar from the tone he uses. In an effort to not seem placid, she tried to overcome him and position herself on top. Forgetting that the bunker is only small, they land on a hopeless heap on the floor, a beautiful mess.

In an effort to initiate the rhythm they had, she scrambles about on top of Thrawn. Realising that stabilisation is the key, she leant over him, and placed her hand on the cold steel floor next to his head. Her breasts drop tantalisingly, and he notices, cupping them in his own blue hands. Blue and pale pink mixing together awash the grey interior.

Enough is soon enough, and out of breath they collapse against one another, lying entangled on the floor. Morwen lies there, staring at the overhead lighting that seems to give off a romantic glow. Trapped in her thoughts, she is not wary of Thrawn's wandering hands, and yet again a small yelp tells him that she has been caught off-guard.

The control over her that he has gives him immense pleasure, and his fingers explore her, the wetness inside making him smile in delight of his recent victory. His eye slits narrowed, no emotion can be seen. Just two slits of red glowing light, but that is all she needed. His head bows down in some sort of immediate reaction as he probes her and she arches in delight, wanting to further the pleasure he gently nips at her left breast causing her to vocalise her pleasure louder.

Sweat drips off the two of them, as they lay there, naked and tired but together. Morwen rested her head against his chest, his heart thumping prominently much like her own. It is now he chooses to talk. When she is rested, and eager to please him.

"You could make a great Imperial..."

She scoffs at his comment. Knowing she has only ever been good at flying.

"You show the eagerness for knowledge to fill the void in your mind. I admire that in my colleagues."

She laughs at him again, the sheer thought of it ludicrous.

"I would make a terrible leader. I don't know the first thing about war tactics other than what I'm told!" She laughs again, reminiscing past battles.

He grunts. "Then you will agree that the only reason you do not know, is that you have not been taught?"

Silence ensues, and so Thrawn continues his shameless interrogation.

"One piece of information is all I need from you, and you can rise through the ranks of the Empire."

"But I am bound to the New Republic..." Morwen whimpers... Desperately trying not to fall to his will. But it's useless. Resistance is futile...

"The New Republic have sheltered you like a new born from your inner-potential. The Empire can help unleash that and turn you into a leader instead of a follower. I can make this happen if you tell me where the Princess Leia Organa Solo and Jedi Luke Skywalker have situated themselves..."

It takes a few seconds for Morwen to sort out details in her head. Finally, the offer seems too good to let down.

"Senator Organa Solo was talking about Kashyyk. I know nothing about Skywalker. The only information I can offer about Organa Solo's trip is that the Wookiee Chewbacca is travelling with her."

Hard silence emanated in the room, an uncomfortable echo penetrating Morwen. The information she has given may not have been enough, she slowly realises as he puts his uniform back on, carefully and neatly. She follows his lead, and he looks sharply to her, his red eyes ambiguous, scaring her.

"You will need a new uniform Lieutenant. That one may well cost you your life..."

He walked out of the room after punching in the access code, and she sat there, a muddle on the floor zipping up her flight suit.

"Grand Admiral."

Pellaeon nodded as the Grand Admiral stormed down the corridor towards his dormitory.

The Grand Admiral spun round quickly but delicately, like a muscular ballet dancer well trained in his body.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Prisoner 218 has been rescheduled for her death, it is to commence in an hour. Is this suitable, sir?"

The Grand Admiral smirked slightly, his eyes ablaze.

"A traitor is of no use to me, she has been indoctrinated since youth, that is plain enough to see. You agree?"

Pellaeon nodded roughly, the girl had been a traitor, that much had been apparent according to the notebook they had discovered on her person.

"Heartily so. I shall send Lieutenant Keyes to inform her of her situation."

Pellaeon spun round as Thrawn stood there, glory blazing.

His eyes flashed, the girl's death had been orchestrated so artistically.


End file.
